


Rises the Morn After Slumbering Night

by beeberry



Category: AR∀GO ロンドン市警特殊犯罪捜査官 | Arago
Genre: Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6609376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeberry/pseuds/beeberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arago Hunt gets a little too close to a murderer while investigating a case and finds himself caught by surprise.  Restrained and drugged and left in an industrial fridge to die, Arago manages to call Seth, bringing him and Oz to the rescue.  From there it becomes a mission to care for Arago's hypothermia and frostbite until Brionac recovers enough to heal him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rises the Morn After Slumbering Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [faenova](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faenova/gifts).



Cold. Arago awoke slowly, feeling heavy and tired and, above all else, cold. He felt his teeth chattering and a sting from his tongue where he had bitten it. That had been what pushed him over the edge into wakefulness.

Arago tried to turn onto his side, meaning to roll off his bed, already feeling strongly that something was wrong. His wrist caught with a sharp _clank._

Not good.

In front of his face, Arago could make out a fog of breath. Belatedly, he realized he was shivering. It was so cold, freezing cold, and he looked down to find his hands cuffed to the bars of a hospital cot. Arago looked around at concrete walls covered in faint frost, a door with a large handle, and nothing else. This was definitely not a hospital. Moving his arms again, Arago found needle taped to the inside of his elbow.  He followed a narrow tube from there to an IV drip standing over the bed, steadily dripping murky liquid down into his arm. Definitely not good.

Arago closed his eyes for a moment. Where had he been before this? Investigating something, wasn’t he? Some case, but he wracked his brain and came up with nothing else past the intrusive thought of cold.

Gritting his teeth, Arago jerked his arm. The cuff dug into his wrist, but held. He yanked again. Tried the other arm. Tried both arms. Something was wrong, he wasn’t as strong as he should be. He tried to call on Brionac and nothing happened. He looked to his shoulder, down his arm, but the light only flickered weakly. Arago jerked his arms again and twisted in his binds, all without any force behind it. A cloud of breath formed over his face as Arago struggled. With immense effort he threw his upper body upwards, trying to move his legs, but they obeyed worse than his arms. But he was upright, now, and could observe more of the room. Not that it did him any good. Concrete walls, concrete floor, a door. If that wasn’t locked, Arago would eat his badge.

Whatever was in that IV, it was messing with his body, sedating him most likely. He wondered if he would have woken up without Brionac, like that time at Seth’s school.

Seth.

Arago hunched his shoulders against the cold, felt for his phone, and grinned in triumph. Whoever had kidnapped him must be a complete idiot to leave his phone in his pocket. Or maybe they just didn’t expect him to wake up.

The phone slipped from Arago’s fingers. He swore and fumbled for it, afraid it would fall off the bed. He grit his teeth to stop them from chattering, trying to make his fingers stop shaking, too. His head felt heavy and light at the same time, muffled like it was stuffed up with cotton. It took him long moments to realize he had flipped his phone open and was staring uncomprehendingly at the screen. His fingers moved without him consciously thinking about it. Speed dial. The ringing cut through to him like a dull knife and he tilted dangerously to one side.

Seth picked up after two rings, long enough to pull it out of his pocket and glance at caller ID. He answered with a flat, “What do you want?”

Arago worked his mouth.

“Arago.” Irritation. Another pause, Arago couldn’t tell how long. “I’m hanging up.”

“No!” Arago’s tongue felt thicker than his brain, difficult to maneuver. He tried to say “Wait” and could only get out half the word. Patient silence came through the phone and Arago bit his tongue in frustration, trying to get enough feeling back to talk.

“Are you even there? Is something wrong?”

Arago nodded. “Yeah.” It came out more rasp than word, but it was something. He just wanted to lay down and sleep, he was so tired. “Seth. I’m…”

“Arago?”

The noise and catch of the cuff around his left wrist jerked Arago back from falling. In a moment of instinctual panic he yanked again on them and unbalanced himself. He collapsed backwards, the phone still in his limp, shaking hand.

“I might be in trouble,” he murmured.

“Arago? Say something.”

Had he not heard? Arago tried again.

“If this is a prank, I’m hanging up.”

“No! Wait.” Arago forced himself to move, to sit up again, bending over his phone. “I don’t… know where I am.”

“Did you call me for directions?” Arago thought he could hear Seth rolling his eyes.

“No. I don’t… I’m serious.” And then because it was true and the only information he could offer, information that felt like the only important thing right now: “I’m cold.”

“Cold? Where are you?” Finally, Seth was taking him seriously.

“I said I don’t know,” Arago whined. “It’s really cold.” Then, as an afterthought, “I’m handcuffed.”

“What?”

“To bed.”

“Where are you? What happened?” Seth demanded.

“Don’t know.” Arago really wanted to lie back down. He needed to talk to Seth, though, or he would be stuck in this freezing room. Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Arago tried to shake himself awake. Seth was saying something.

“Give me something!”

Arago lifted the phone as high as he could with the handcuff and curled himself down to grasp it with his teeth. It was hard to get hold of with the way his hand was shaking. He couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers. With the phone successfully caught, Arago let himself fall back and dropped the phone after his head hit the mattress again.

Seth’s voice was still talking. Arago heard, “Why haven’t you just blasted your way out?”

“Can’t,” he answered. “Brionac isn’t working.” Talking had gotten a little easier the longer the call went on, but now his tongue felt thick and lazy again.

“What do you mean Brionac isn’t working? It doesn’t just stop.”

“Think ‘m drugged. Like that time.” When they first met.

“How long have you been where you are? Brionac should work through any drugs faster than a normal human.”

He should explain. Arago wondered how long he had been there. Didn’t matter, the IV was a constant drip directly into his veins. He should tell Seth. “What time is it?” he asked instead.

“Almost nine a.m.,” Seth said and then sternly, “Arago.”

Arago grunted questioningly in response. That couldn’t be right. He hadn’t had dinner yet, he’d been trying not to go to bed without. He didn’t remember going home, anyway.

“Are you hurt? I’m contacting Oz. Keep talking to me.”

“I’m really tired.”

“Arago. Arago! Stay awake! Tell me if you’re hurt!”

“Don’t think so.” Arago blinked and forgot to open his eyes for a long moment, long enough for Seth to yell at him again. Seth kept talking, but now his voice sounded more distant.

“He’s slow to respond, like he’s struggling to remain conscious. Wherever he is, it’s cold. His teeth are chattering, and he’s tired.”

“That could be hypothermia,” came another voice, Oz. “Hey, Arago, how are you feeling?”

“Cold. Tired. Brionac won’t work,” Arago listed.

“He might be drugged.” Seth again. “It would have to be administered recently to still be affecting him.”

“Right. Arago, can you tell us about where you are?”

Arago rolled his head.

“Arago?” Seth asked with concern. Arago realized belatedly that he had moaned.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled thickly. Each word stuttered out between his chattering teeth. To Oz he continued, “It’s just concrete. Freezing cold. I’m the only thing in here.”

“You mentioned handcuffs,” Seth reminded him.

“Yeah. S’like a hospital bed.”

“A hospital bed?” Oz asked. “What makes you say that?”

“Handcuffs?” Arago tried. They were locked around the rails. “And the IV.”

“IV? Is it attached to you?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” said Oz, “that’s not good.”

There was acid in Seth’s voice when he asked, “You think?”

Arago really wanted to sleep. Seth and Oz started talking to each other, something about tracking and mobiles and speed. Suddenly, they were yelling at him.

“What?” Arago asked.

“Don’t just stop responding! You can’t fall asleep, Arago. Without Brionac, your body could be in serious danger of hypothermia and frostbite. Can you feel your fingers and toes?”

Arago tried to flex his fingers and toes. It was difficult to move his hands. He wasn’t sure if his feet moved at all. “I’m not sure.”

Seth spoke to Oz. “Faster.”

 

It went on like that, Arago wasn’t sure how long. Seth yelled at him anytime he didn’t respond immediately, and sometimes he could hear Seth and Oz talking.

“His teeth have stopped chattering.”

It took Arago a long minute to realize Seth was talking about him, and then to him.

“Arago, say something.”

Arago grunted. “How long’s it been?”

Seth ignored his question. “You’re teeth aren’t-- Do you still feel cold?”

Arago frowned, trying to focus on Seth’s words. He had stopped shivering at some point. He thought his teeth might ache from the chattering and grinding (how long had he been doing that?) but everything felt distant. It was like he was floating inside his own body, drawing in on himself. He couldn’t feel his feet or his hands.

Seth was still talking to him. Arago fumbled for a response, but he was tired. Why couldn’t he just sleep and wait for them to show up?

“We’re almost there,” came Oz’s voice, grim. “Hold on, Arago. Seth, keep him talking. Make him do something.”

Arago wondered if he had said any of his thoughts out loud. He imagined Seth on the other end of the line, calm and calculating like always. He was never going to hear the end of this, being captured. They weren’t even doing anything, just leaving him here. Maybe they were planning on coming back a day later. At least it wasn’t cold anymore.

“ARAGO!”

The shout made Arago jump, jerking against the handcuffs again. He heard them rattle and his head fell toward the phone lying inches away. After a few seconds, Seth shouted again, “ARAGO!”

“What?” he replied. “Shut up.”

There was a noise that might have been a sigh or a breath before Seth was yelling at him again. “Don’t you dare fall asleep! We’ve found your location and we’re there, we’re coming for you, so stay awake until we find you! You can hold on that long, can’t you?”

Could he? Would he? Why should he, Arago wondered. If they were coming, Arago could sleep until they got here. He tried to tell Seth that. The words were so much effort he only got a few of them out. Seth actually sounded happier, maybe he liked the idea.

“Good, keep talking. Keep talking or I’ll rip your tongue out when we find you, okay? Shut up, he’ll heal. Can you tell us anything about where you are? Has anything changed.”

Only the-- “Temperature,” Arago said.

“Aside from that. Has anything changed in the room?”

Arago shook his head. He blinked and forgot to open his eyes again.

“Arago.” Urgent. “Say something.”

Arago listened to the hum of Seth’s voice. He was still talking, but words weren’t making sense to Arago. He didn’t want to think. He wondered if it would be okay to just listen. He had heard Seth quote and read poetry aloud before; he had a nice voice. Sometimes his aura was painful to look at, when he got into the political and revolutionary works. But there was that one time he had shared a shorter, simpler poem with Arago, “one you might actually be able to understand.” His voice had had a sort of air of performance. Performing for his audience of one, Arago supposed, but it had been gentle. His aura had been calm, affectionate even. What was the name of that poem? He would like to hear Seth read it again.

*

“Arago? Arago, can you hear me? Arago!”

“That’s enough.” Oz’s voice was grim, his grip tight on the steering wheel. “He’s probably lost consciousness. Besides, we’re here.”

Arago’s mobile signal had led them to a painfully ordinary looking section of London. Chain stores and small restaurants lined the street, active but not overly busy for a Tuesday morning. Arago had been last seen yesterday at the station before heading out to investigate a case.

“This is it,” Seth said. The case, according to what Larry had dug up for them from Arago’s assignments, involved a serial killer. Or a would-be serial killer, if the two frozen bodies that had been found were his only kills so far. The location of Arago’s mobile signal couldn’t be pinpointed, but the possible area included an abandoned restaurant building that, if Arago’s notes were correct, belonged to one of the suspects.

Oz grabbed Seth’s shoulder before he could jump out of the van. “Let me go in first. We don’t know what sort of opponent we’re dealing with. You can’t just kill them if they’re human,” he added, seeing Seth’s expression.

Seth offered no promises, but nodded. Killing humans would cause too much trouble. Arago wouldn’t be happy with that, and Seth was no longer a minor whom the law could easily forgive.

The front door was locked, so Oz broke it down. The inside was sparse, tables and overturned chairs and dust that erupted with the impact of the door being violently opened. Oz held out a hand to remind Seth to stay behind him and they spared a glance around. As they headed for the kitchen, Oz hovered a hand over his gun.

The kitchen was much the same as the dining area, sparsely furnished with industrial grade cooking appliances, but there was less dust back here.

“Oz,” Seth said in a dangerous voice. Oz nodded. He had seen it, too: blood on the floor. A few drops were enough for them to see the path from the back door to the walk-in fridge.

“Doesn’t look like anyone is here,” Oz said and turned his attention to that door. Locked. He pounded a few times on it before focusing on the keyhole. Seth itched to blow the door off its hinges, but held back.

“Arago, are you in there? Can you hear me?” Oz called, pulling out his kit and slipping the first pointed needle into the lock.

There was no response. No response could mean Arago couldn’t respond or he couldn’t hear them through the thick door. It could mean he wasn’t here at all, but at this point neither Oz nor Seth had any doubts.

The lock clicked.

Seth hardly waited for Oz to pull open the door before shoving past him and very nearly literally flying into the fridge. Cold air hit them, the first sign of electricity in the building, along with the dull electric lights on the ceiling. On the far side of the otherwise empty room stood a bed and an IV stand hooked up to Arago’s prone form.

Seth didn’t bother yelling Arago’s name, but was beside him in an instant. His skin was even paler than normal, his lips tinged blue, eyes closed. Seth had shoved his mobile in his pocket when they arrived; Arago’s still lay beside his head.

With trembling fingers, Seth pulled the IV drip out of Arago’s arm. The chains of the handcuffs fell away with miniature explosions of air. Arago’s aura was weak, Brionac a bare flicker along his right side. His fingers were dark. Anyone else would lose at least a few fingers, but Brionac would handle that once it had worked through whatever drug was running through Arago’s veins. Still, Seth couldn’t help thinking that Arago looked like death. He was utterly cold to the touch, and it took a moment for Seth to realize that he had not been burned when he touched Arago’s bare skin to pull out the IV.

“Oi,” he said, and reached up for Arago’s face. He hesitated only a moment before slapping his cheek. No sting. “Oi, Arago, wake up. Wake up!” He slapped harder and shook Arago’s shoulder. He yelled his name again, grabbing Arago by the shirtfront and yanking him upright.  Arago’s head lolled limply and he slumped against Seth’s chest.

“Calm down.” That was Oz’s hand on his shoulder. “We need to get him out of here and warmed up.”

“Right,” Seth agreed distractedly. He wrapped one arm around Arago’s back, the other under his knees, and calling upon Orc lifted him from the bed. He would never be able to lift Arago on purely physical strength the way Oz could, but Seth ignored Oz’s look and carried Arago outside himself.

“I could have carried him,” Oz said, opening the van door for them.

Seth didn’t bother answering. “Do you have blankets in here?” He lowered Arago to the floor of the van, but couldn’t quite bring himself to let him go entirely. He ran his hand up Arago’s back to his neck and into his hair which felt like frost. Seth couldn’t help shuddering at the cold touch, but tucked Arago’s head neatly under his chin all the same

“I do,” Oz replied, hoisting himself in after them. “If it were anyone else, I’d say we need to take him to a hospital, but…”

Brionac would return eventually.

“Is his torso cold?” Oz didn’t wait for an answer before pulling up Arago’s shirt to feel for himself. He grimaced. “He’s reached the extreme stages of hypothermia. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it,” he explained, rubbing Arago’s arm roughly. “Though never this bad. But this guy won’t die. We just need to warm him up, and Brionac will do the rest.”

Oz stood and moved away and Seth replaced him in rubbing Arago’s arm, continuing his own motions over his back and neck. Arago’s head bumped into Seth’s jaw and he let out a tight-lipped moan. Seth ducked his head towards him in surprise. “Arago?”

A weak shudder wracked his body. The van rumbled to life, quickly followed by the sound of air blasting through the vents..

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” Oz said, sitting closely in front of Seth so that Arago was encased between them. He started rubbing Arago’s chest and abdomen beneath his shirt with calm focus. He took over holding Arago’s prone form upright, and Seth focused on rubbing warmth back into Arago’s back and neck with one hand and his legs with the other.

After a few minutes, Arago took a deep, shuddering breath and began to tremble.

Oz’s shoulders slumped with relief. “That’s better.”

“Arago?” Seth tried, his voice coming out low and hoarse.

Another shuddering breath, this time with chattering teeth. Arago didn’t otherwise respond, except to turn his nose into the crook of Seth’s neck.

“Come on, Arago,” Oz said.

Seth pressed his chin against Arago’s head and ran his fingers back into Arago’s hair. “Arago, you need to wake up.”

Another twist of his head. Seth waited until he felt the flutter of Arago’s eyelashes against his neck to breath again.

“I’ll get the blankets,” Oz said, pulling back.

Seth nodded absent-mindedly in response and listened to Arago letting out another moan.

“What’s wrong?” Seth asked..

Arago stuttered around his chattering teeth. “Fingers,” he said to Seth’s collarbone.

Seth looked down at where Arago’s fingers were shaking, twitching spasmodically like Arago was trying to move them and not succeeding. The tips had faded some from the angry blue they had been when they found him, but they were still blue. Probably Brionac was in the process of healing them, and Seth did not envy whatever sensation that process produced. Seth picked up Arago’s hands and rubbed them between his own. He bent and kissed the tips, the last knuckle, breathing warm air from his lungs over the frozen skin.

“Frostbite,” he told Arago, going back to gentle rubbing. “It will heal quickly.”

Arago curled himself closer to Seth. “Still cold,” he whispered, pushing his hands against Seth’s chest, seeking warmth, turning his body into Seth’s. His grasp on Seth’s shirt was weak, still shaking, so Seth pulled him closer. He rubbed his arm and pushed a hand through Arago’s hair. He rubbed Arago’s ear, covered it with his palm, and it made Arago moan again.

“You’re okay,” Seth told him. “It will hurt for a while, while it heals, but you’re safe now.”

“Here.” Oz returned with blankets. He knelt, but instead of handing them over, he dropped the blankets to the ground, reached for Arago, and gently turned him away from Seth.

When he started unbuttoning Arago’s shirt, Seth asked, “What are you doing?”

Raising a cheeky eyebrow at him, Oz said, “Direct skin contact will warm him up faster. You up for it?”

His tone earned a glare, but Seth reached for the hem of his sweater. He allowed Oz to prop Arago against his own shoulder for a moment while he stripped and Oz removed Arago’s shirt. Arago clutched at it while renewed shivers wracked his body. Oz rubbed his arms until Seth snatched him back, goosebumps erupting over his skin as he came in contact with Arago’s chilled body. Oz pulled off Arago’s shoes and finally wrapped the blankets around them tightly, layering one over the other. When he was done, only the top of Arago’s head showed, tucked back under Seth’s chin. The blankets shook gently with their combined shivers and the movement of Seth rubbing Arago’s arms, his back, whatever he could reach, and Oz moved to the front. The van rumbled to life, quickly followed by the heater turned up high.

Taking deep breaths to keep himself from shivering, Seth murmured into Arago’s hair a soft litany. “You’re okay, I have you. You’re okay. Don’t fall asleep. Stay awake, you’re safe, but you need to stay awake until you’re healed more, got it? Can you hear me?”

Seth almost didn’t hear Arago reply, felt his breath against the top of his chest and the mumble of his lips against his collarbone and focused enough to hear, “I know. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Seth’s movements stuttered for a moment. Arago nuzzled closer, fingers curling against Seth’s chest. They stayed like that a while, Seth shaking Arago’s shoulder or tapping his face when he started to nod off.

“Your place or his?” Oz asked from the driver’s seat.

“I’ve never told you my address.”

“Nope,” Oz agreed.

“Yours,” Seth answered, deciding not to press. He wasn’t surprised. “I don’t want to imagine the state his flat is in.” He didn’t bother explaining why not his. Oz drove as usual, meaning at ridiculous speeds, and Seth spared a hand to find something to hold onto.

As they approached Albion’s London headquarters, Oz pulled out his mobile. Seth listened with one ear between murmurings to Arago.

“Hi, Crawford. We found him. Yeah, in the restaurant. Send a forensics team over. There’s blood on the floor, doesn’t look like it’s Arago’s. Seems like enough to bring the guy in.” Oz listened. “I don’t know if I would say he’s unhurt, but he’ll be fine. We’re looking after him now.” Another pause, then Oz glanced back at Seth as he said, “Yes, and you might want to hurry -- before anyone else gets to him first.” They were pulling in now. Oz ended the call.

It took long minutes to disentangle the blankets from around Seth and Arago. Oz lifted the detective this time, and forced Seth to keep one of the blankets wrapped around his own shoulders. It was a relief, honestly, to separate from Arago’s still-cold skin for a moment, and Seth resented himself for the feeling. He watched Arago burrow himself into the blankets, pressing towards the new heat source, Oz. Seth followed him into the building, upstairs and down the hall to the living quarters.

“Cuddle up with him again,” Oz said, “while I run a warm bath.”

Arago was still shivering, but his face looked somewhat less blue, turning red and blotchy instead. He kept his lips parted, blistered and angry looking as they thawed. Seth pulled at the blankets until he could burrow back into them beside Arago. If the situation weren’t almost literally life-saving, Seth would never have allowed it, certainly not in Oz’s presence, even if he was now in the other room running the bath. Arago latched onto him immediately. Their legs tangled together. Seth captured Arago’s groping hands and pressed them to his chest, ignoring the chill that brought him.

Arago said, “Seth.”

Seth waited for him to continue, to say something else. Finally, he prompted, “What?”

After a long pause, Arago said, “I’m cold.”

“I know. You’re getting better, though. Oz is drawing a bath now that will warm you up.”

“Wanna sleep.” Arago buried his head in Seth’s shoulder to emphasis his point.

“Oi. You can’t.” Seth tugged on Arago’s hair, then stroked it apologetically. “Are you feeling colder than before, or warmer?”

Arago made a gargling noise.

Seth prodded Arago’s neck. “What kind of answer is that? Say something useful.”

Arago didn’t respond, only pressed closer.

Seth tried a different question. “Did you see the person who did this?” He prodded Arago again when he took too long to reply.

“Didn’t. Don’t remember,” Arago mumbled.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

A long moment passed again, and Seth was about to give Arago a shake or something, make sure he was still awake, when he said, “I’m touching you.”

“You have been for the better part of an hour,” Seth told him.

“But you’re okay,” Arago insisted. He lifted his head for the first time to look at Seth. His fingers twitched under Seth’s hand. “You’re not… Brionac. Are you hurt?”

Seth frowned. “No, you’re the one who is hurt,” he said patiently. “You have frostbite and hypothermia. There are drugs in your system dampening Brionac’s power.” Seth could practically see _oh, that explains why I’m cold_ cross Arago’s mind.

“Oh. Yeah. Kinda hurts.”

“Bath’s ready.” Oz was back.

Once again, Seth had to disentangle himself from Arago, this time with more reluctance from Arago.

“Can you settle for me for a moment?” Oz asked, pulling the blankets away and working his arms under Arago’s back and knees. “I promise it’ll be worth it, and the little devil’s right here.”

Oz carried Arago to the bathroom and set him on the floor, motioning for Seth to get down, too. He propped Arago against Seth and stripped him of the rest of his clothes. Seth tried not to look, suddenly much more aware of their proximity, of the way he was and had been wrapped around Arago for the past hour. Oz kept moving, unconcerned and professional. Clothes removed, he picked Arago up once more. Seth moved out of the way and Oz lowered Arago into the water.

“Is it warm enough?” Seth asked. He sort of expected steam, and there was none.

“Too hot and it would do more harm than good,” Oz explained.

Arago moaned as he sank into the water, shivers turning to violent shudders until he was submerged up to his chin.

“Oi, don’t go drowning in the bathtub after all this,” Oz said, repositioning Arago against the side of the tub where a folded towel was waiting to cushion his neck. To Seth he added, “Hold him up.”

Seth took Oz’s place, watching Arago’s eyes flutter wide. He took a few heavy breaths as he acclimated to the water. His hand came up to grab Seth’s wrist, slipped off back into the water, and returned. Seth lowered his arm until Arago could hold onto him without leaving the warmth of the bath. By then Oz had returned with a towel. He submerged it in the water, then wrung it out and handed it to Seth.

“Use this for his face. I’m going to make him something hot to drink, he’s likely dehydrated,” Oz said. He paused in the doorway, looking back at Seth with a grin to say, “You could always join him in the bath.” He left laughing at Seth’s expression.

Despite his glare, Seth wondered if it would help Arago, his body heat in addition to the warm water. The water was probably enough.

Oz returned quickly enough with a mug of tea. He passed it to Seth, who held it to Arago’s lips, but elicited a hiss of pain. Seth almost spilled the tea pulling back.

“His lips are still thawing out,” Oz observed before Seth could turn another, angrier glare on him. He reached around Seth to thumb at Arago’s mouth. “Should have gotten a straw.” He took the towel back and dipped it in the water, dabbing it gently across Arago’s face. “Keep trying,” he told Seth.

“Obviously,” Seth muttered as Oz brushed past him. He set the tea down and accepted the towel when Oz handed it to him on his way out. He continued talking to Arago once Oz left, the same simple assurances as before.

After a while, Arago seemed more aware. His eyes stayed open and he held his head up, although Seth still had to keep him from curling in on himself and slipping under the water. Eventually, he asked, “Where am I?”

“Back with the living,” Seth said. “You’re at the Albion base around the corner from the police station. How are you feeling?” he added after a second’s hesitation.

Arago’s head dipped gently in thought, and then he jerked, looking wildly back up at Seth. “Why am I naked?”

Oz would surely say something suggestive. “Because you’re in the bath?” Seth suggested lightly.

“Why am I-- why are you--”

Seth breathed in through his nose, and then out through his mouth. “Drink this first,” he said, setting down the towel to bring the tea up to Arago’s mouth. It was still somewhat warm.

Arago’s hand came up to try to take the mug, but his fingers were shaking, and he flinched when he touched it. He looked at his hand. “What’s wrong with my fingers?”

“Drink. Then tell me what you remember.” Seth pressed the mug to Arago’s lips until he did.

“I remember…” He looked at Seth. His face was redder than before, but not quite as blistered looking. “Frostbite?”

“Yes.” Seth waited for him to continue.

“I’ve-- You’ve been… because I was cold.” He blinked, suddenly looking outraged. “That guy locked me in a freezer!”

“What guy?” Seth asked sharply.

“It was Brahm or something, the suspect for a-- suspect, it’s definitely him! He’s killed two people!”

“He almost killed you,” Seth pointed out.

Oz appeared in the doorway again. “Don’t worry. I just got off the phone with Detective Crawford. They found Connor Brahms at his house. Nice job breaking his nose, by the way. That’s why he wasn’t there when we found you, he’d gone to the hospital to have it fixed up.”

“He’s been nicked, then?”

Oz nodded. “Yeah, and there’s more than enough evidence to take him down.”

“Good.”

Seth had to tighten his grip to keep Arago from slipping under the water. “Wait.” He turned to Oz. “Albion isn’t the one taking him in. Does that mean he was human? No powers?”

Oz nodded again in confirmation. “A perfectly ordinary murderer.”

Seth rounded on Arago. “How did you let an ordinary human not only incapacitate you, but lock you in a freezer? You could have died! He even blocked Brionac, you weren’t healing!”

Arago cringed, but Oz interrupted before he could reply. “You’re healing up well, now, though,” he said, touching Arago’s face and lips gently. “Let me see your hands.”

Arago didn’t move. His breath had caught when Oz touched him. “How are you touching me without burning?” He seemed to notice for the first time that he was hanging onto Seth’s wrist and quickly let go, trying to lean away.

“Didn’t you tell him already?” Oz asked Seth.

“I believe twice.” Seth held Arago in place. “I just told you, Brionac is blocked. You were drugged.”

“But I’m… oh.” He looked at Seth. “For how long?”

“Let me see your hands,” Oz repeated, and this time Arago complied.

“Can you feel this?” Oz asked, taking them gently. He touched along a few trembling fingers. They were no longer blue, but red.

“Yeah.”

“Does it hurt?”

Arago shrugged. Seth narrowed his eyes and unconsciously squeezed Arago’s shoulder. “Does it hurt?” he demanded. He spared Oz a sharp glance. “Don’t act tough.”

Oz brushed off literal limb loss. Seth wasn’t trusting his judgment.

“It’s like when your foot falls asleep,” Arago admitted grudgingly. “But worse.”

“Speaking of feet,” Oz said after grimacing in sympathy, “lift those up.” Oz didn’t wait, reaching into the bath.

Arago’s grip returned to Seth’s arm and tightened to the point of bruising as his balance was suddenly shifted despite Oz’s easy movements. “Careful,” Seth snapped.

“At least your shoes offered your feet some protection,” Oz was saying, performing the same test. “How do they feel?”

“Not as bad.”

“Alright. Try not to rub your hands and feet, or your lips and ears. The friction can worsen the tissue damage, although in your case it will just slow the healing. Other than your extremities, how are you feeling?”

“Tired of getting asked how I’m feeling. And tired.”

Oz smiled at him. “You would be. You can probably sleep once you’re finished with the bath. Want to wash your hair? It has been a couple days,” he added when Arago blinked slowly at him. “I’ll make more tea.”

Oz rummaged in the cupboard and tossed the shampoo to Seth before he left, leaving them alone again. Seth opened his mouth to ask what Oz thought he was doing too late, so he turned to Arago. He raised the shampoo questioningly.

“Whatever,” Arago said, sinking against the edge of the tub. His eyes had become heavy lidded again.

“That means you have to sit up,” Seth told him.

Arago tipped forward more than he sat up. Seth decided against asking if he really wanted this. He moved his hand up to the top of Arago’s shoulder and half stood to reach for the shower head. It figured that Albion would use their government funds for a fancy shower. Arago made a soft noise when Seth turned on the showerhead and water hit his back.

“Tilt your head.”

Arago obeyed, which made Seth hesitate.

“You’re being awfully quiet.”

Then it was Arago’s turn to hesitate, shoulders rising defensively. “Sorry?”

Seth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You’ve been through worse than this. I find it hard to believe that you’re this tired.” He moved the spray up to Arago’s hair anyway, tilting his head back again.

Arago closed his eyes quickly, moving to bite his lip and quickly regretting it. He let Seth soak his hair and begin rubbing in the lavender scented shampoo.

He seemed to be chewing something over. Seth tried not to watch his face too obviously, working the purple goop into Arago’s hair until it foamed. Arago’s shoulders came back down as he washed, eyes still closed. He looked like he might fall asleep right there. Seth almost didn’t hear him speak when he reached for the shower head to rinse.

“It’s not just that,” Arago murmured.

Seth bent closer. “Not just what?”

“Just the being tired,” Arago answered, opening his eyes. He didn’t look at Seth, and closed them again when Seth maneuvered his head so that shampoo and water wouldn’t run into his eyes as he rinsed.

“What is it, then?” he asked, reaching for a towel. A small smile and then a thoughtful expression crossed Arago’s face when Seth dropped a towel over his head and started rubbing his hair dry, careful not to rub too harshly over his ears. Arago leaned towards him.

“You’d laugh at me,” he said, and then Oz walked back in and Seth had to resist using Orc to close the door in his face.

“Done washing? I’ve got clothes for you.”

“Thanks,” Arago said, and the blush was obvious now that the red had started to leave his face. After a moment of hesitation when it became clear neither Seth nor Oz were leaving, he gripped the side of the tub and moved to stand. He didn’t make it far. Both men made a grab for him as he fell.

“I’m fine!” he yelped, trying not to cling to them and rather not succeeding.

“Clearly,” Seth growled.

Oz pulled Arago’s arm over his shoulders. “Just hold onto me, Arago. That’s it. Can you step out?”

He did manage that and stood leaning heavily on Oz, shivering once in the less-warm air, his other arm over Seth’s shoulders. Seth slipped away to grab a towel and they helped him get dressed in thick sweats. Arago’s hands didn’t shake anymore, but they were clumsy when he tried to help.

“Grab the hair dryer,” Oz said to Seth and swept Arago’s legs out from under him.

“How many times have I been carried today?” Arago grumbled.

“We are at your command, princess. And now we go to the royal chambers.” Oz maneuvered through the door with Seth following. He dropped Arago on the same bed as before. “Oh, drat, forgot the tea. I’ll be right back.”

“Really, how many times has he picked me up today?” Arago asked.

“Only three times,” Seth said, trying not to smile. “From the van to this flat, to the bath, and back.”

Arago made a face. “Wait, what about when you first found me?” he asked.

Seth plugged the hair dryer in. “I carried you.”

“You did?”

Seth wiped the surprise off Arago’s face with a blast of hot hair.

Oz returned as he blow dried Arago’s hair carrying a tray of steaming tea and bandages. “While this cools, I’ll wrap your hands. It’ll at least keep you from making them worse. Trust me, frostbite is not fun.”

“You’ve gotten frostbite?” Arago asked.

Oz hummed an affirmative, kneeling in front of Arago. He took Arago’s hands, fitting cotton between the fingers before wrapping them all together. He worked quickly and efficiently. When he was done, he handed the tea to Seth to help Arago drink. Both were surprised at how greedily he drank, ignoring the sting of his blistered lips. He gasped and shook his head when the last drop was gone, leaning heavily against Seth who had sat beside him. Oz wrapped his feet just as quickly.

“You staying?” he asked, looking at Seth while checking Arago’s lips and ears again.

“Yes,” Seth said at the same time he felt Arago grope for his hand.

“To bed then, shall we?” Oz said with a wiggle of his eyebrows that made Seth glare. They laid Arago back and Seth sat beside him. There wasn’t any need to share body heat at this point. He should find his shirt. But Arago touched his arm and when Seth looked at his uncertain face, he lay beside him again.

“Are you still cold?” Seth asked, helping Oz arrange the blankets.

“Er, not really.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “Are you cold?” he repeated, holding his arm open to Arago.

By some miracle, Arago caught the hint, eyes widening before he ducked his head against Seth’s chest as it had been earlier that evening. Seth almost didn’t hear him mumble, “This was why.”

Seth tucked his own head down and asked into Arago’s soft, warm hair, “Why what?” Oz glanced curiously over from picking up the spare bandages and tea tray.

Arago breathed deeply. In two breaths his body sank against Seth and into the bed.

“That’s probably for the best,” Oz said. “You’ll need to put your shirt back on in a minute.”  
Brionac flickered faintly around Arago’s shoulder. Seth fingered Arago’s hair until Oz said, “You know that’s what he meant, right?”

Seth sent him a questioning look.

“Touch,” Oz said simply. “It’s been a long time since he’s had physical contact with anyone.” He brushed his own hand over Arago’s hair with a sad smile. He pulled back and added, “I’ll go check in with the Yard. Help yourself to the kitchen. And if you get burned, don’t let him see it. Your shirt’s over there.” He gestured and left.

Seth settled his attention between Arago’s face and the growing light of Brionac. He had a little time.


End file.
